


faithful friends who are dear to us

by Samsonet



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsonet/pseuds/Samsonet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfendi's family knows that Lucy is important to him -- why invite her to Christmas Eve dinner otherwise?</p><p>But he's pretty sure they don't know how she's brought out the other side of him.</p><p>(a secret  santa present for damedarkhat! I hope you like it!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	faithful friends who are dear to us

He hasn't seen his father in four years.

Perhaps that isn't completely true: the other side of him, the one Lucy calls Placid, has certainly fulfilled the role of dutiful son. He visits on Christmas, calls on Father's Day, and occasionally drops by the university just to say hello.

But Potty is the real Alfendi Layton, and he's only recovered his body recently -- or, at least partially recovered -- and he hasn’t seen his family in four years.

He arrives at five in the afternoon on December 24th. He’d combed his hair and left most of the newspapers in the Mystery Room, partly because it was Christmas, for goodness’ sake, and partly to spite Placid and Lawson and whoever else wanted Potty gone.

Flora meets him at the door. “Alfendi! I’m so happy to see you! Come in!”

That’s her, an apple of gold in settings of winterfrost silver. She takes the presents he's carrying and puts them under the tree while he takes off his coat and boots.

(Really, there's no reason to put them under the tree. There's a present for his father and one for his sister, and it seems more dignified to simply hand them over when it's time to open them. But Flora likes the idea, so Potty goes with it.)

(He calculates how old she is now. He’s two years older, so… twenty-seven? She’s probably finishing her time in university by now.)

(It’s stupid of him to be so sentimental about this. He needs to stop, now.)

"Where’s Dad?" Potty asks. Even that short sentence doesn't sound like Placid, but if Flora didn't notice his bright burgundy hair, she's not likely to notice a slight difference in tone.

Or maybe she did notice, and she doesn't find it important enough to ask about. It's not like Alfendi would ever hurt her, after all. He only threatened to cut out her tongue once.

She waves a hand vaguely to the right. "Father went out to deliver the last of the presents, I think. He should be back soon. Lucy came earlier than you did, she’s in the living room.”

“...I see. Alright,” Potty says. He takes the long route through the kitchen to see what Flora has been cooking.

The kitchen is not filled with smoke, which is much different from their younger days. Flora had been getting better with all the practice she put in, it seems.

Except…

“Plain pasta? Flora, are you serious?”

***

It turns out that no, she's not going to serve plain pasta for Christmas dinner, she simply hasn't started on the sauce yet.

The next question, of course, is why she thinks pasta is a Christmassy food to begin with, but that's a puzzle for another day.

Lucy is in the living room, staring at five strings on ornaments hanging from the same bar strung from the ceiling. The bar is uneven, and the ornaments are small golden suns, moons, and stars.

“What are you working on?” Placid asks, walking up behind her. Potty lets him take over, just for now, because his calmer side seems to enjoy going over puzzles he's already solved… and because, while he highly doubts Lucy could be scared of him, he doesn't want to run the risk that she will be.

“Hm? Oh, ‘ello, Prof!” Lucy points at the three small ornaments on the desk. “Flora told me about this puzzle o’ hers. See, the bar’s unbalanced, innit? And one of these ornaments will even it out.”

“Ah, yes. She gave that to my father a few years ago, based on a puzzle he told us even further back. I already know the answer, of course.”

“Don't spoil it!”

“Don't worry, I wasn't going to. But I can give you a hint, if you want.”

“Nothing doing! I'm going to solve this without help!”

So Placid sits on the sofa and watches as Lucy examines the bar from all angles.

After a while, she says, “I’m s’posed to figure the weights of these, aren't I?”

“Which ones are lighter and heavier, yes.”

She clenches her fists and grits her teeth. “It'd be so much easier if I was allowed ta pick ‘em up and try ‘em one by one!”

“Funnily enough, that's the same thing I said. I suppose this is why we're detectives and not professional puzzle solvers.”

That makes her laugh, but not for long: suddenly she looks at the strings much more intently, like she's noticed something.

“Wait a second… assumin’ the outer strings are equal, and ignorin’ the middle string…”

She picks up the moon ornament and hooks it to the middle-right string.

The bar wobbles a bit.

Then it evens out.

“Correct!” Alfendi says, pointing at her. “Well done.”

“It was nowt.” It might be nothing, but Lucy is still grinning. With this puzzle solved, she looks around at the rest of the decorations. Alfendi follows her eyes.

As far as he can remember, his family had always liked the holidays. On December first they'd start decorating: decking the halls, hanging wreaths, putting tinsel anywhere there was space. When he was a teenager, it had been his job to hang the higher ornaments on the tree.

The tree standing before them seemed rather bare near the top. He would have to fix that.

“Do y’ think…”

Placid turns to his assistant. “Do I think what?”

“Well… in a couple days Christmas’ll be over, but… could we decorate the Mystery Room? The rest of’ the Yard is all fancy, but our office isn't.”

To tell the truth, he'd never decorated because nobody ever came to the Mystery Room.

(This year, he should've asked, but habits are hard to break.)

(It didn't help that he caught Dustin trying to hang mistletoe on the Mystery Room door. When Potty pointed out that the only people who ever went in the Mystery Room were himself and Lucy, Dustin had the nerve to laugh. The mistletoe went in the trash.)

Still, if making the Mystery Room even messier made Lucy happy…

“Of course we can.”

She smiles brighter than the lights on the tree.

***

The front door opens as it's beginning to get dark, and Potty knows exactly who it is. He's out of the living room and by the door just in time to see Hershel Layton hanging up his coat.

“Father.”

Their eyes meet. Potty knows his father has noticed the change -- he has to have noticed. But like a true gentleman, he's not mentioning it.

“Alfendi, how nice to see you. There's a puzzle I've been wanting to show you --”

“Father. I have something to tell you. About Forbodium. And about myself. Or the person who’s been going around calling himself me. It is the most frustrating story...”

"Father!”

Flora jumps up and hugs him, and Potty finds himself groaning inwardly. (He would groan externally, but he's not mad at Flora. Just her timing and his own impatience.)

Hershel asks her _how was you day_ and _do you need help with the dinner_ and _have you solved the puzzle about the bottles and cans yet?_

She, in turn, answers _I expected you home sooner_ and _no I am taking care of it_ and _of course I've solved it! It was easy._

“And also, he probably hasn't told you yet, but remember what Lucy told us last time about Al? I am reasonably sure we have our Alfendi back,” Flora finishes. “See? Look at his hair.”

Flora is almost a foot smaller than him, but that doesn't stop her from pulling on his hair playfully. Alfendi gives her a glare. “Yes,” he says. “That is what I was trying to tell you.”

“I see," Hershel says. "We have been informed about what caused your seemingly drastic personality change. I don't claim to understand it, but you can trust that I will not treat you differently because of it.”

As if Professor Layton, True Gentleman could treat anyone badly.

Alfendi nods, suddenly feeling very tired. He'd expected the story to be a huge, emotional reveal. His father’s quiet ways had once again completely ruined the script.

They stand there in awkward silence for a rather long time.

Potty’s about to ask how Luke is, just to change the subject, when Flora pulls both of them close for a hug.

“Speaking of hugs.” Hershel’s voice is muffled by how tight his children are hugging him. “This reminds me of a puzzle.”

***

The next day, Placid arrives at the Mystery Room to find Lucy already there. She's pinned holly to the board they use for keeping notes, and there is tinsel everywhere.

She meets him at the door, looking very pleased with her work. Alfendi gives her a smile and steps inside.

Something brushes his hair.

He looks up, and --

\-- it seems as though someone has rescued the mistletoe.


End file.
